James's hands slid over Callie's hips, down, down her legs. His tongue slid, licked, punctured her defenses as it made its way up her stomach. He sucked on her nipple and felt her body arch beneath his.

…he slid into her, a groan releasing from his throat.

"James," she begged, "James. James."

"Callie, Sunny," he moaned as he thrust.

"James!"

James bolted upright on the couch, sweating.

"Are you alright?" Callie gave him a concerned look. She sat down on the couch next to him and faced him.

"Oh, er, I'm fine," James grabbed a pillow and put it on his lap to hide the evidence of his dream.

Unfortunately, Callie saw. She giggled and started to get up. "I heard the sounds you were making in your sleep, James. Don't bother trying to hide it. You can have the shower before me so you can fix it.

James's cheeks colored bright red. "Or you could fix it," he added haughtily. The words had escaped his mouth before he could stop them.

Callie gave him a glare before a smirk crossed her face. She sat back down on the couch.

James's eyes widened. "Wha-what are you doing?"

Callie laughed. "Acting on impulse. Remember when we used to do that?"

James didn't know how to answer, because just then, Callie straddled him and pressed her lips on his.

Shit, was all he could think. Then, oh sweet baby Jesus. He wondered where he'd picked up on all the religious sort-of swearing. It's not like his family went to church or temple or anything.

But that thought was quickly squashed when Callie pulled his shirt off.

His hands moved up her stomach, under her shirt, to cup her breasts. He rubbed the pads of his thumbs across her nipples over her bra. She arched against him, for real this time, no longer just a dream, a moan falling from her lips.

Callie ground her hips into James's. He groaned and pulled her shirt and bra up over her head. He sucked on a nipple, the gasps she was making and the tremors running through her as his tongue lavished her skin just urged him on, his tongue leaving goose-bumps in its wake.

Then James realized who he was doing this with.

What on earth was she doing?

Then it hit him. She was getting back at Ryan. And this was the way she'd decided to do it.

He pushed Callie off of him roughly. "What the hell?" he spat. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

"What? James?"

"I'm not your rebound," he snarled. "Just because you're upset about Ryan doesn't mean you get to use me for revenge."

"James," Callie's eyes pleaded with him.

"No," James shook his head. "I'll pretend it never happened because as far as I'm concerned right now, it didn't. I have no idea what came over you, and I don't want to know."

"Jesus, James," Callie muttered. "I heard you moaning my name in your sleep."

James stopped on his way to the kitchen and turned around to face his best friend.

"Don't tell me you didn't, Jamie. Don't lie about it."

James winced at the nickname. She'd first heard it when she'd stayed over at his house summer after first year. She'd often used it since.

"Fine," James snapped. "It was you I was dreaming about. So, what? You suddenly decide that you want to fuck me and damn it all to hell, including Ryan? You want to cheat on him for revenge, I'm all for it. But not with me. I'm not your rebound guy."

"James."

Callie's voice came clear as crystal, penetrating James's thoughts. It was the sound of her pleading with him. He didn't think he'd ever heard her do it before today.

James didn't turn around. "Shit, Cal," he mumbled, facing the wall. "I love you, okay? I love you. I want to be with you, I want to make love to you, not fuck you. I don't want you to be with Ryan, not only because he's an abusive jerk who I want to maim with my bare hands. I'm not going to help you cheat on him for vengeance; if you want to bang me, I'd rather you do it because you love me, too."

James shook his head and walked out of the flat, leaving Callie standing after him.

Little did he know those three words were echoing around in her head, directed at him.

She'd loved him since she was sixteen. She'd held it in, watching him go through girl after girl. There was no way he could love her back. So she hadn't said it.

Now that he had, though, what was she supposed to do?

Callie pulled her discarded shirt quickly over her head. God, what a humiliating thing for her to do. She'd practically jumped him. And she was engaged. She was getting married. And not to James.

She'd just cheated on Ryan.

Oh, shit, he couldn't find out about that.

There was no telling what he would do.


Callie opened the door two nights later, two nights gone without speaking to James, just as she was fastening on her earrings to see Ryan standing there, looking almost delectable in a suit and holding a single rose.

"Hey, Callie," Ryan stepped inside the flat and kissed Callie gently, handing her the flower.

She tried to push the thought out of her head, but couldn't: that was about the only way he was gentle with her nowadays.

"Just let me get my lipstick and purse, then I'll be ready to go." Callie placed the rose in a vase in the kitchen before grabbing her bag.

Ryan nodded and closed the door to the flat behind him. "Where's your roommate?"

Callie heard the contempt dripping from his voice.

"He's at his parents' house. They're all having dinner together."

"How come ya never have dinner with your dad?"

Callie stopped and turned towards him. Really? "He lives in the States," she said. "On the other side of the world, remember?"

"Oh, right," Ryan nodded sheepishly. "Sorry, I knew that. Me mind's just kind o' a jumble right now. So much goin' on at work."

Callie nodded. He worked in the family business: hotels. His dad, Seamus Finnigan, ran an immensely successful chain of hotels which looked more like cozy inns than parts of a big franchise. They were located all over the world with the headquarters in Belfast, where Seamus had grown up.

Callie and James had stayed mostly in Seamus's hotels when they'd taken their trip around the world after graduation from Hogwarts the summer before they started work.

"It's alright," she said. She smoothed out her dress. "Ready to go?"

Ryan nodded. He took her arm and apparated them to a posh new restaurant in Diagon Alley.

The hostess seated them almost immediately and Callie settled the napkin on her lap before taking a delicate sip of her wine.

She hated wine. Ryan loved it. Callie would much rather have straight up alcohol or beer. Even firewhiskey was better than wine. Though she came from California, and her grandparents on her father's side actually owned a vineyard, she couldn't stand the smell or taste of it. It was probably all those years spent drinking it when she was younger so that her grandparents could mold her into being a perfect little heiress for their wine company.

"How's your wine?" Ryan asked.

"Good," Callie lied with a smile and set the glass down. She was lying a lot, lately. And it was a good bottle; she knew that after all her experience with it. But that didn't make her like it any more. And Ryan knew how much she detested the stuff. She sat on her right hand so she didn't break the stem of the glass from her frustration.

"So," Ryan played with her left hand, the one not clenching the chair, his fingers grazing the ring there every so often, "I was thinkin' that ya could move in next weekend."

"Ryan, we've talked about this," Callie said hesitantly. "I don't want to move out until just before the wedding."

A dark shadow seemed to loom over Ryan's face. "I don't like ya livin' there with Potter."

And there's a good reason for that, Callie thought, remembering the encounter that had taken place only a couple of nights ago. She tried to banish thoughts of that night from her behind before her cheeks turned a vivid pink.

"I know you don't. But you aren't me, and so you have no control over it. I like living there, and I don't think it's such a great idea to leave James."

"I'm your fiancé, not him, Callie, o' have ya forgotten that?"

"Ryan, you're never home anyways. And when you are, I'd just be in the way every time I have to get up really early for Quidditch practice."

"Callie, we're goin' t'be married. We'll have t'learn t'work around each other's work schedules."

Callie tried not to squirm in her seat when he said the 'm' word. Instead, she tried to focus on the menu, but everything appeared to be in a different language.

"What kind of restaurant are we at?"

"French," Ryan replied. "It's the newest restaurant in Diagon Alley. It's supposed t'be excellent. And stop tryin' t'change the subject. Why aren't ya movin' in with me? We're goin' t'get married. We're goin' t'start a life together. We need t'be livin' together t'do that."

"I know, Ryan." Callie grit her teeth. What she wouldn't do to be sitting at the Potters' kitchen table with the rest of her adoptive family, right now. She'd even rather be sitting with her awkward, quiet, angry father even though she'd never really understood or gotten along with him. There was also the fact that he kind of hated her for her magic.

What did that say about how she felt about her fiancé? No, Callie reassured herself. She was just a little shaken up, still, about what he'd done earlier. He'd promised he wouldn't, but he'd grabbed her again. He'd been horribly apologetic. He'd felt absolutely awful. But he'd still done it.

Callie hadn't forgiven him so easily the second time. But she'd convinced herself to, in the end. After all, James's dad, Harry, was always preaching about forgiveness and second chances. If he could still forgive after all that he went through, why couldn't she?

"Callie, are you even listening to me?" Ryan's angry voice penetrated into her thoughts.

"I zoned out for a second," she said apologetically. "I've been a little out of it, lately. It's just that since there's no training right now, I'm not completely sure what to do with myself."

The rest of dinner went by just as tensely. They made snide, snappy comments at each other and when she dutifully argued for Ryan to let her pay the bill, he just pushed it towards her instead of laughing and taking the check anyways like he usually did. When Ryan brought her home, she didn't even ask for him to come in.

Instead, Ryan kissed her harshly, his nails digging into Callie's upper arms. He pushed her against the door forcefully before taking off down the stairs, out of the building, not looking back.

Callie hissed and let herself in, rubbing the streaks of blood on her arms away quickly, lest James see them.

Except he was standing in the entrance hall when she walked in.

James looked up at her when she came in. Callie could tell the second he noticed the scratches on her arm. His eyes became mournful and droopy. He just looked at her, before shaking his head and walking away.

Nothing Ryan had ever done had made her heart ache as much as James walking away did.


Review, please! More James & Callie action coming up in the next few chapters...